


The Secret Ways of Gondolin

by phyncke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:40:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyncke/pseuds/phyncke
Summary: Ecthelion and Glorfindel, over many long years and through secret ways, have a long and loving relationship.
Relationships: Ecthelion of the Fountain/Glorfindel
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: 2020 My Slashy Valentine





	The Secret Ways of Gondolin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tabru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabru/gifts).



Title: The Secret Ways of Gondolin  
Author: phyncke  
Beta: Aglarien  
For: Slashy Valentine 2020 (for Tabru)  
Characters: Glorfindel/Ecthelion, Idril/Tuor, Maeglin, Turgon, Fingolfin  
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I have borrowed them for my own amusement and for yours, I hope.  
Summary: Ecthelion and Glorfindel, over many long years and through secret ways, have a long and loving relationship.  
Warnings – characters death

The Secret Ways of Gondolin

Ecthelion and Glorfindel, as two of the Lords of the Houses of Gondolin, were under a higher level of scrutiny than most of the other citizens of the hidden realm. They were more observed and more noted in their movements, and though they had been lovers from before the Hidden City had existed, since before the days of Vinyamar in Nevrast, they had decided to keep their relationship hidden and discreet. They did not know how their King would react were he to know of their love, and they did not want to challenge the status quo at all. They would hide their movements, meet clandestinely, and for all appearances appear as warriors and comrades, and not as the lovers that they were. 

Ecthelion, as Lord of the Fountain and Warden of the Great Gate had great responsibilities. He guarded Gondolin, determined who could enter and who could not, and was the first to meet Tuor and Voronwë when they traveled to that great city at the behest of Ulmo with a message for Turgon of great import and prophecy. Ecthelion recognized that the Valar had an influence in the life of Tuor, and the man needed to be taken into the presence of the King. He was an elf with innate wisdom and good sense. Tuor would later become the husband of Idril, daughter to Turgon and an adviser to the king. Turgon would not heed the prophecies of Ulmo to the doom of all in Gondolin. The King did not wish to leave his jewel of a city, his prize in the Circling Mountains. Turgon could not envision a time when the Enemy would find them and attack them in their stronghold. They were too well hidden. It could not come to pass. But the Valar’s warning echoed in the halls and into the future. Glorfindel and Ecthelion always remembered. Tuor remembered, as did Idril. They waited for history to turn against them. 

/---/

Many years passed as they did with the elves and the man who lived in Gondolin. They prospered in their mountain hideaway and many forgot the warning of Ulmo, though some made secret preparations for a doom that might or might not come. Maeglin, son of Aredhel, had spoken against Ulmo’s prophecy when Tuor had delivered the message to the King, and ever after he was very jealous of the man’s relationship with Idril, daughter to the King. He coveted her and wanted her for himself, and was not pleased when she fell in love with the mortal man. His anger and resentment seethed under the surface, though he made every attempt to hide it at court. 

Ecthelion and Glorfindel allied with Idril and met with her in secret over the years since Tuor came Gondolin. She was very concerned about the message from Ulmo and knew that the Valar would not have sent Tuor to them had it not been important. She called together the elves she most trusted to devise a contingency plan should the worst befall their fair city and the enemy attack. They could not hope to defeat Morgoth’s forces should they be surrounded by his foul armies in the Encircling Mountains. Their only hope was escape, and to that end they decided to build a secret tunnel out of the City through the mountains. This took some years, and was done without telling Turgon, their King. They thought when the time came they would eventually inform him of its existence. 

They would meet regularly, and they worked over the years on the tunnel. Both the House of the Fountain and the House of the Golden Flower, sworn to secrecy, provided the labor to complete the construction of the tunnel into the mountains. Attack was not imminent, so they took some years to dig and reinforce the passageway. They wanted a secret path out of the city and out of the mountains to allow them to get away in the event that the walls of Gondolin were breached by the enemy. 

Idril hated to keep all of this from her father, but she did not want him to think that she was undermining his authority by believing the message from the Valar. Ecthelion and Glorfindel, though loyal to the King, were also loyal to his daughter, and kept her confidence. They were friends of Tuor and knew that his message from the Valar was important to their survival as Elves. They were secretly alarmed that Maeglin held so much sway over Turgon to cause him to ignore such a weighty message. They felt it only wise to make some preparations, should the worst occur, and felt that Idril and Tuor used sound judgement to make provision for an escape. 

On the day that the tunnel was finished, Ecthelion, Glorfindel, Idril and Tuor held a meeting at the House of the Golden Flower to have a small celebration of sorts. They toasted with some light sparkling wine and ate some delicacies. No one more widely would know what they had done as it was well hidden, but at the time it was needed, more would be informed. 

“I am glad it is done. No more need to sneak around and hide what we are doing from the King,” said Glorfindel as he took a sip of the wine.

“Just so,” laughed Tuor. “You cannot imagine how hard it has been to keep this from him. Now we just need to hide the tunnel. That should not be a problem. Hopefully we will never need it.”

“Hopefully,” murmured Idril, looking absently into the candlelight.

Ecthelion sighed. “It is only a matter of time before we are discovered here. Morgoth has spies everywhere. Time will tell.”

That silenced the group and they continued to eat and drink quietly in a more sober mood. This was not really a cause for joy. This was cause for seriousness and measured waiting. No cause for celebration at all. 

/---/

Many years before, before the rising of the Moon and Sun, before they had come to Middle Earth, Turgon and his host were part of the larger host of his father, Lord Fingolfin. Left behind on the shores of Aman by Feanor’s host, they watched as the Teleri ships burned across the sea and realized that they would either have to go back to Valinor or find another way across to Middle Earth. Fingolfin chose the hardest path possible, across the Helcaraxë. The Grinding Ice. That way lay to the north and was very perilous and bitter cold, but he was determined to make it across, and so they walked across the ice for many years and with many sacrifices. 

Glorfindel and Ecthelion worked together on the long journey through the north to pull themselves through the arduous times, and helped others along as well. They hunted game on the cold landscape, fished in the frigid sea, and so brought food for the rest of the host to survive the long winter. Oftentimes, they would leave the host to go on foraging missions have and spend days on end together without other company. The ice was perilous. There were many times that they each saved the other from the crevices and creatures that roamed the wilderness. 

Nights were bitter cold, so cold in fact, that one could die of it if one did not seek the warmth of another in the low temperatures. Ecthelion and Glorfindel would set up a small shelter, a low-slung tent that would cut the wind and keep out the snow, and then set about the furs that they would sleep in that night. They took off their outer furs to use as covering, and would seek each other’s body warmth under the furs for the long nights. In this way they became very close, and formed a bond that would last them all of their lives. It was a bond of love and of comfort in a cold, dark time of their lives. 

Years later, even in Gondolin, they would never be easy unless they could sleep together entwined. They always sought each other out in the time of reverie, and knew and trusted each other. 

As partners in the hunt they were unsurpassed, brought the most food back to the host, and could feed the most mouths at once. They used net, spear and knife to keep the elves of Fingolfin’s host alive through the long march across the Helcaraxë. Even so, many lives were lost to the elements and the storms along the way, and their number was much reduced as they arrived in Middle Earth at the Moon’s first rise. It was with much wonder and joy that they felt solid ground beneath their feet and saw the silver orb in the sky. Glorfindel and Ecthelion raised their voices in song as they left the ice and marched onto land, joyous that finally the long march was over. Flowers opened and bloomed at their feet as the light of the silver moon coaxed their petals to unfurl. The clear sound of the trumpets sounded as they ended their long ordeal. Never had the hard ground felt so good under foot as it did then. Ice turned to earth, which turned to mud, which turned to grass as they walked onto the land under the light of Isil sent by the Valar to guide them. 

/---/

Ecthelion and Glorfindel were so used to sharing a tent and being partners in the bivouac that they did not even consider changing their arrangements at all. They continued to hunt together for the host, although the game was more varied and plentiful, and the elleths could gather plants and nuts to round out their diet. No longer did they have to subsist on fish, plankton and seaweed. They could eat venison, squirrels, and other wild game that roamed the lands, and even shoot the birds out of the air for roasting over a spit. No longer was food so scarce that they had to scavenge for whatever they could find to eat. They had their choice of what to eat in the bounty of the Middle Earth, and had to learn what new things they could eat by trying roots, stalk and leaf. 

After a great celebration feast on the banks of Mithrim Lake, Ecthelion and Glorfindel pledged their loyalty to Turgon, son of Fingolfin. who was bound for the seaside land of Nevrast on the coast. They had not learned yet of Turgon’s ultimate plan for Gondolin, but knew him to be a brave elf of noble lineage who had survived when his wife had fallen on the long journey across the ice. He had ensured the survival of his young daughter, Idril Celebrindal, against all odds, and had a sound plan for a kingdom in Nevrast. They would follow him to the ends of Middle Earth should that be necessary. 

Ulmo, in all his wisdom, sought to influence the mind of Turgon in his dreams, and indeed also that of his brother Finrod, and bid them both to seek hidden realms for the safety of their people. To Turgon, he showed the vale of Tumladen, a sparkling jewel in the crown of encircling mountains, and a hidden realm where they would be safe from the forces of Morgoth. For some years Turgon kept this knowledge to himself, and he and his people dwelt in peace in Nevrast. Finally he informed his people of the hidden realm in the mountains, and of his intent to move his people to this hidden realm, and build a city there for their safety and security. 

Ecthelion and Glorfindel, while they loved their seaside home, living side-by-side and spending all of their time together, agreed to this plan of Turgon’s. They were his loyal subjects and would follow him to the new realm, especially since it was an idea from the Valar and not to be ignored. They were part of the earliest parties to go and map out Gondolin, and supervise the building of that great city in the mountains. It took many years and much hard toil to embody Turgon’s vision for the city, but finally they were finished, and they left Nevrast and Vinyamar as though they had never been there but for, at Ulmo’s bidding, a suit of mail and a sword for one who would have dire need of it. Vinyamar, that fair city, stood empty. But for the crashing of the waves and the sounds of the gulls, there were no sounds. Years later, Tuor came there and would find that suit and sword and as Ulmo had foretold. 

/---/

Gondolin was a city with many secret passageways. Ecthelion and Glorfindel had built private ways between their homes so they could pass unseen by curious eyes. There were many who gossiped incessantly in the city and they did not want their private business known by those who would be cruel or malicious about their relationship. The King had no knowledge of their closeness, but knew them to be compatriots and brothers in arms over the many years. He did not want to see anything more, nor did they want him to see anything more. All was well as it was. Idril, who had a sensitive nature, suspected that they were more than warriors to each other, but kept her counsel to herself or to her husband, Tuor. She was not one who participated in the idle gossip that floated around the King’s court. She had no patience for such things and was never drawn into such conversations. 

Ecthelion and Glorfindel spent their nights together as they had since the long cold nights on the Helcaraxe, their contrasting hair mingled together on the pillow. Their body warmth was not a matter for survival anymore, but was a comfort, and many nights they made love as lovers do with a passion grown from their years together. Their bodies fit perfectly together as they always had, and they took comfort in each other over the long years of their lives in Gondolin. 

Gondolin was also a city of betrayal. Maeglin, nephew of the King, had long coveted his cousin Idril, though any match between them was forbidden. In his travels as Lord of the House of the Mole, he explored, looking for gems, metals and minerals with which to do his work on armaments and jewelry. He was ever venturing outside of Gondolin for such items and was captured by the Enemy and taken before Morgoth. In exchange for his life and his cousin, Idril, Maeglin betrayed his city and his King, and disclosed to the Dark Lord the location of the Hidden Realm. It was all Morgoth needed and so he bid Maeglin return to Gondolin and say nothing. And so Maeglin did. 

The rest, as they say, is history. Gondolin was sacked as the City celebrated The Gates of Summer, a festival that the whole populace was invited to. Guard on the gates were scant as everyone enjoyed the celebration, and they were caught totally unawares as Morgoth’s forces approached over the mountains. The Enemy attacked with orcs, balrogs, dragons and great engines, bringing down his horrible might on this jewel of the Noldor. As the warning trumpets sounded and they knew their doom had come, Glorfindel and Ecthelion squeezed hands and then ran to get their weapons for battle. They had little hope in defending the city against this invader, but some hope in their secret escape into the mountains. The tunnel.The tunnel was their last hope. 

/---/

In death, as in life, Ecthelion and Glorfindel were inextricably bound to one another. So strong was their connection that their fëar found each other in the Halls of Mandos and would not be separated in all their time there. Time immeasurable. When at last they were reborn, the Valar blessed their union and re-embodied them at the same time so that they could live together in Valinor. 

/---/

There were moments that truly tried Glorfindel’s patience and this was one of them. He had woken up early in the morning, even before the sun had passed over, and made his way over to the chicken coop to gather a few eggs for their breakfast. He needed four or five eggs to have enough for both of them to get a fair portion. And that meant dealing with unruly hens who liken to peck his fingers off rather than let him take one of their eggs. 

“Now, now – little ones. Just one egg each. There are six of you. I just want one of your eggs. Ow!”

The bird’s sharp beak had gotten him right on the top of his hand, but not before he had gotten the precious brown orb from her nest. He put it in his basket, and moved on to the next hen, and got much the same treatment from her. She had just one egg in her nest, so he took it. She fussed and pecked, but he was successful. On he went to each bird in turn. 

Glorfindel only gathered four eggs that morning as two of the hens did not produce an egg that day, but that was enough for their breakfast. He went back into the house as quietly as he could. Ecthelion still slept, a tumble among their blankets, and he wanted to have their meal ready when his love awoke. He would wake him when all was ready. 

The table was laden with a veritable feast for the morning meal; toast made over the fire from yesterday’s bread, eggs and vegetables fried together, crispy bacon, juice made from their own apple trees , oat cakes and fresh creamery butter. This was all made by their own hands and grown in their own field. They lived far enough away from the city that they could grow their own produce and raise their own animals. It was a small subsistence farm, and it was a fine way for them to live out their days in peaceful bliss after their war torn days in Middle Earth. 

The smells of the breakfast had wafted into the bedroom and roused Ecthelion from his slumber. He arose, washed his face, and walked with tousled hair into the kitchen, where they also took their meals. It was a wide-open room with windows overlooking their property and the slope of a long hill winding down to their fields. 

“Well this looks promising. You have been up early wrestling with the chickens, I see.” Ecthelion raised Glorfindel’s hand to his lips, running his fingers over the fresh cuts caused by the irate hens. 

“Yes, the hens were quite cross with me.”

“They can be quite vicious when you try to take their eggs.”

“Just so.” Glorfindel laughed. “But it was worth it for this feast we have before us this morning. Sit and eat and stop making fun of me.”

Ecthelion kissed Glorfindel softly and took his seat at the table, pouring himself some breakfast tea from the freshly brewed pot that was there. 

“I am never one to turn down food when offered. You know me well!”

“Yes, I do.”

They continued eating in companionable silence. Glorfindel portioned out the eggs while Ecthelion passed out pieces of buttered toast and bacon. They had homemade jam for their toast and ate their fill. Sitting back later, they each sipped a cup of strong tea steeped for a long time in the pot. 

“We have an invitation to a party in Tirion. I think from Lord Fingolfin. The usual suspects will be there.” Ecthelion stifled a yawn. “I think they want to try some new card game.”

“Oh bother. Do you want to go? I don’t even like card games and cannot stand the rumor mill at these things. People have nothing better to do than spread idle gossip about each other.”

Glorfindel took a bite of toast and furrowed his brow at the same time, appearing to give Ecthelion’s question serious thought. “Well,” he reasoned, “it has been a long time since we have made an appearance in town and while we don’t have to go, perhaps we should. We do not have to play the card game. We can see people and then take our leave. I do like to get the latest news.”

“What news could there possibly be? Oromë’s horse farted? What kind of news are you looking for? Nothing of import ever happens here!”

“And that is why we like it so much,” Glorfindel reminded him. “It is quiet and peaceful since times past.”

They bickered back and forth, arguing for and against going to the card party, until all they could do was laugh about their indecision. So things went in Valinor, this land of peace and tranquility. The biggest decision they had to make was for their evening’s entertainment and company. In the end, they decided to attend and rode their horses from their farm into Tirion proper. It was not a long distance, so it did not take very long and they liked to ride. 

The party was as predicted with the best and brightest of Tirion’s elves in attendance and a good amount of gossip thrown in for good measure. As elves of Gondolin, both Ecthelion and Glorfindel were familiar with court intrigue and this propensity in people to spread rumors. They elegantly side-stepped conversations that did not interest them, keeping on a more wholesome tack. As war heroes from Middle Earth, they were afforded a certain respect by those who had never been there. 

The next morning, after spending time at Lord Fingolfin’s table and many reminiscences over endless cups of tea, they mounted their steeds and headed back over the hills to their little farm. It was with much relief that they donned their work clothes and got back to the work of tilling the soil and tending their animals. And so they lived their lives happily for many years to come. 

-The End-


End file.
